I Saw, She Saw
by Simon920
Summary: Someone finally sees Robin changing back to Dick Grayson. Oops.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**I Saw, She Saw**

**Part One**

It was a nothing day at Brixton Academy, spring fever had set in, the windows were opened to let in the breeze and the kids weren't paying as much attention as they knew they should have been. But it was Friday afternoon and it was just too nice out to trouble your brain about calculus or the Norman Conquests. Seriously.

Two hours and seventeen minutes left.

The time dragged and a few lucky classes managed to convince their teachers to let them have class outside under a tree, knowing that nothing would get done but what the hell.

A hour and thirty-six minutes left.

"Man, why can't they just let us go?"

"Because then we'd have to make it up by coming in on Saturday or something."

Dick Grayson was sitting in Senior English, pretending to read The Monk's Tale by Chaucer but really wondering if he and Bruce would be going after Catwoman again tonight or if Bruce would be out on his own. No matter what he said, Dick knew he had a thing for her, even if she was a criminal and he privately thought it was kind of funny, so long as it didn't go anywhere. Cripes, she'd even hit on _him_ a few months ago. Sure, she said it was just to get Batman's attention and make him jealous but, c'mon—tacky much?

The loud clanging jarred him out of his daydreams and he got to his feet with the rest of the class; another fire drill, no big deal, happened all the time.

Everyone stood around out in the parking lot or on the lawns, chatting, wishing they could just leave and wondering what was taking so long. Usually they emptied the school, made sure everyone was out and then they could go back inside.

Then the fire engines arrived, sirens blaring, lights flashing.

Dick turned to Steve Malloy, "That's unexpected. Maybe there really is a fire or something."

"Doubt it, probably just another practice run."

"Maybe." But Dick knew that Steve was probably wrong, the town was under pressure to save money and this would cost gas and time.

That's when the kids saw it, the black smoke just starting to curl and rise from the back of the building. The fire fighters drove the large engines over the lawns and the baseball diamond, pulling up by the storage rooms, unrolling their hoses and having at it. The police, arriving just after the fire department, kept the students back, "C'mon, you kids stay back, let us do our work. I said stay _back_!"

Fifteen minutes into the afternoon's entertainment, Dick started smelling chemicals burning, the thickening smoke billowing with a sickly yellowish green adding into the black.

The smoke seemed to mostly be coming from the storage room; it was spring and the maintenance people were going to spread fertilizer on the fields over the weekend. The chemicals were toxic when burned and there were at least a dozen fifty pound sacks back there along with gas cans for the lawn mowers and God knew what all else.

He ducked behind the Erlinger's van parked next to the woods in the last row of the student parking lot, making his change to Robin in record time then racing around the far side of the building in time to tell the fire chief what they were fighting. "Change to foam to smother the flames; the water may not put out what's burning and the run off will make more of a problem than you already have—besides, it's being contaminated by the chemicals."

The firemen were pros and reacted fast to the new information, containing the fire and having it under largely control in about twenty minutes.

"Thanks, Robin—we weren't sure what was stored in there and no one around seemed to know. You were a big help today." The Chief shook his hand. "What are you doing outside Gotham's limits? I thought you stayed close to home over the river there."

"Usually, but a nice day like this I like to take a ride, y'know how it is." Not adding, 'And I go to school here, thanks.'

The man smiled, "A young man's fancy turns to love on a day like this, I guess I'm not too old to remember that. You go on and have yourself some fun, you earned it today, son."

Yeah, sure. He still had to finish The monk's Tale before Monday and write a paper on the thing. Party-on.

But—with the fire problem solved and with the school needing to be aired out and cleaned, the announcement was made that the kids could leave; anyone waiting for the school van should go to the usual spot and it would be along at it's regular time, as would the parents picking up their children. No one was to go back inside for any reason because of the fumes and they'd be informed if school was on or not Monday, depending on how the cleanup and inspections went. Meanwhile, everyone should have a nice weekend.

Back in the parking lot, having taken the long roundabout way through the woods to avoid being seen, he changed back to his school clothes. He'd just gotten his sneakers back on when he looked up and saw the girl standing there, openly watching him.

"Hi, Dick."

He jerked around, startled. Britney, Bethany, Bridget—whatever—was standing there, a girl he barely even knew the name of, let alone actually knew. She had a knowing smile on her face, her posture relaxed.

"You have any other secrets or is this is, Robin?"

"This isn't what you think."

"Uh-huh. And since we all know that you live with Bruce Wayne that pretty much puts paid to what he does in his spare time too, doesn't it?"

"You're jumping to a conclusion; I told you, it's now what it looks like."

She smiled. "Right, whatever you say; how is it?" She watched him trying to come up with something she might buy but was coming up blank, she'd caught him red handed. Finally he just looked at her.

She had him, she was about to claim the biggest jackpot in the history of jackpots.

"I thought so." She let him twist in the wind for a long minute. "'Tell you what, you go your way, I'll go mine and when I think of what it is you can do for me I'll let you know. Sound fair?"

"It sounds like blackmail."

She made a face. "Blackmail? That's harsh, Dick, really harsh. Let's just say that we're going to have an arrangement, okay?"

"Such as?"

"Such as you do what I want and I don't go to the press and sell my story for a gabillion dollars."

"It's your word against mine—you really think that anyone will believe you against me?"

She smiled again. "Oh, I know you'd get all your friends to back you up, all the Titans and the Justice League and all those famous big-shots you hang out with. You're right; but I also have this:" She held up her cell phone, camera lens prominent. "'Kind of takes away that whole 'your word against mine' thing, doesn't it?"

Shit.

"Well, alrighty, then. You have a good weekend, okay? I'll see you around, Dick." She gave him a friendly wave and started off, smile still on her face, then stopped. "You know what? On second thought I could use a ride home, you have your car here, right? That nice Porsche Boxter Bruce gave you for your last birthday? You don't mind, do you?"

"Sure, I'm parked over by the street lamp." He'd play along of now and see what she wanted.

For now.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

Dick followed her directions, intending to just pull up to the front door and let her out but when they got there, "You're coming in, aren't you? I know my mother would want to meet you; she insists on meeting anyone who brings me home."

"I have to get home, myself."

She gave him a hard look. "It will just take a minute, Robin."

Sighing and barely containing his anger, he went inside with her. The house was a big one, nothing like Wayne Manor, of course, but still a good twenty rooms on a couple of acres. It was a new place, one of a dozen or so in an upscale development of McMansions and running in the five to seven million dollar range. This one was pretending to be a 'cottage' in the Newport Astor's kind of way, minus the ocean view but heavy on carved stone, fifteen foot ceilings and heavy furniture.

"Mom?"

"Out here." The voice came from the back of the house, the woman was sitting by the pool doing something on a laptop. She was a small woman, dark hair and eyes weighing maybe 110, dripping wet and smiled when she saw the two kids. "And who's this?" She looked like one of those hyper-efficient people, the kind who manage the law form whole heading the Cancer Society and raising three kids on her own.

"This is Dick Grayson. Dick, this is my mother, Mrs. Wilson. He asked me to go to the movies tomorrow, is that okay?"

"No, I didn't." Screw this; he'd take rude over sap any day.

Britney laughed, "Okay, I didn't tell him I'd go, but I will—that's okay, isn't it Mom?"

Mom looked halfway between confused and amused. "It's fine with me, so long as you're back by twelve; you know the rules, Britty."

"I already have plans for tomorrow, maybe another time." Like maybe never would be better.

"But I'd _love _to go to the movies tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to it."

"I said I already have plans and I can't change them, maybe another time."

Her other caught the weirdness in the conversation. "Britney, I think another time would be fine, honey. If Dick has something else he needs to do then he has other plans."

The girl gave the woman a look to kill but forced out a smile anyway. "Of course, Mom, I was just teasing him, he knows that, right?"

"It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Wilson but if you'll excuse me, I have to get home."

"It was nice to meet you, too, I hope we meet again, Dick."

Britney walked him out to his car, seething. "Don't try that kind of bullshit again or you'll pay, you understand?"

He gave her an appraising once over. "You don't seriously think you'll get away with this, do you? You believe think I'd _let _you get away with it."

"Uh-huh, and what are you going to do about it? I have pictures, remember? I've got you by the short-hairs, as my father would say and you'll do what I want when I want it."

"Britney, you're making a mistake." His voice was calm.

"No, you're the one who made the mistake Dick, and now you're going to have to live with it."

* * *

"Everything all right, chum?" Batman and Robin were returning home after a routine patrol, Robin quieter than usual and minus the bad jokes he known for.

"I..." A pause while Robin decided what path to take here. "No, I've got a problem and I think that you're going to get mad about it so promise that you won't, okay?"

"That's a pretty open ended request."

"I'll take what I can get." The Batmobile pulled into it's usual spot, Batman cut the engine, released his seat-belt and sat, waiting to hear what the situation was.

"A girl at school saw me changing from Robin back to Dick Grayson and has pictures. She's trying to blackmail me."

Batman stared straight ahead through the windshield then pulled the door latch, getting out of the car, every line of his body radiating his anger. Robin followed, closing the heavy car door and waiting for the explosion while he removed his mask and started undoing his cape and tunic. Bruce, his cowl pushed back looked daggers at the boy.

"How the hell could you allow something like this happen?"

"I didn't allow anything; it was an accident and sooner or later someone was bound to get caught, it just happened to be me."

"After all the warnings you've had, the training—I can't believe this."

"C'mon, Bruce, we all know this was bound to happen, that's why we have a plan set to go; all we have to do is implement it."

"...Are you suggesting that we murder a girl in your high school?"

Dick shook his head and rolled his eyes, probably in disbelief that Bruce could actually think he was going there. "The _other _plan, remember?"

"I refuse to ask J'onn to run interference for you. I also refuse to suggest one of the JLA members cast a magic spell on the girl to clear out her memory."

"Jesus, why—who aren't you speaking to this week?"

"Dial back the attitude a few notches, old chum, we have a problem because you were careless and so you're the one who's going to clean up this mess."

What? "'A little help, maybe?"

"Who is she and what does she want?"

"Brittney Wilson, she's two grades below me. 'Quiet, average grades, doesn't have many friends, keeps to herself, isn't a joiner in clubs or sports, 'lives over in that new development by Brixton Pond. I'm not sure what she wants—I suspect she's thinking about that as we speak. 'Probably just to have me under her thumb. She semi-forced me to give her a lift home after school today and then strong arm me into taking her out this weekend."

"Does she have a crush on you as either Robin or Dick Grayson?"

He shrugged. "If she does I don't know about it."

"So, no big demands at this point? No threats about selling the pictures to the media or any of that?"

"Not yet, no, but she might if I don't play ball with her."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Play if you wish, but I'd suggest that you stick to Trivial Pursuit."

"Not funny."

"All right." Bruce had made a decision. "We'll find out what we can about her and her family and I'd suggest that you contain those pictures if you can. Find out what she intends to do, ask her if you have to and we'll take it from there."

"You're kidding; you're letting this ride? What about having the Bat or maybe Superman or Green Lantern drop in to have a talk with her or her parents? I bet Commissioner Gordon would be happy to lend a hand with this, explain to her that she's not only breaking the damn law, but she's putting the entire hero community at risk with this game she's playing."

"I'll start on background. It's only ten o'clock, she's probably still awake; you deal with Miss Wilson."

* * *

Dick Grayson called Brittney's cell phone, the number listed in the Brixton Student Directory. Ten minutes later he sat beside her on a lawn chair next to the Wilson's pool. "All right, let's talk."

TBC

8


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

"Talk? Sure, in fact I have some things I think we should discuss, Robin."

"I'm sure you do, I'll be over in about ten minutes, meet me out by your pool."

He heard a short laugh, "I love a strong, in charge man."

She was waiting for him when he walked around the large house, skirting the manicured lawn and staying close to the trees bordering the property, pausing to watch her for a moment before revealing himself. She was small, like her mother but where the older woman had an air of intelligence and competence about her, Brittney had an air of desperation radiating from her.

Maybe it was because she was shy, maybe because she was insecure, maybe...who _cared _why? She was a miserable pain in his ass and he needed to put a lid on her. No point in beating around the bush. "What is it you want?"

She looked up, comfortable (or pretending to be) on a cushioned chaise near the water. "Okay, first of all, I don't want to hurt you. I really don't. I haven't shown the pictures to anyone and I haven't posted them on You Tube or any thing. No one even knows I have them aside from you."

"So what do you want?" He decided to sit on the adjoining chaise, if he was on her eye level, not towering above her he wouldn't seem threatening, might seem more like a real person and gain some sympathy factor.

"...I want you to go out with me. As Dick Grayson."

Huh? "...Why?"

She was looking at the water gently lapping in the slight breeze, the underwater lights causing reflections and flowing shadows on the trees. "Because my mother doesn't think that I could ever get someone like you to ask me out and if she thought you really liked me, she'd maybe believe that I'm, you know, that I'm somebody.."

Oh, f'the love of... talk about not what he expected. "If you're trying to impress her, why not force me to ask you out as Robin, or invite the Titans over for a cookout or something? Dick Grayson isn't anyone."

She was still watching the water, not meeting his eyes, her voice soft. "Of course you are, don't be stupid; you're the best looking guy in school, you're a senior and you're Bruce Wayne's son or whatever you are, so you're probably richer than my parents just by yourself."

"I'm not..."

"And you're honor roll so that means you're smart. And I've seen you around school; you're nice to people but you don't suck up or try to impress anyone, you just do your thing and don't seem to care what anyone thinks about you."

"But..."

"And you have a good body. I know you don't play any sports at school but you're a really good athlete. I've heard that you used to be in some circus as an acrobat or something but Mom will be impressed that you made the transition from that to head of the class at Brix.

This was about her wanting a boyfriend she could show off with to her parents? Seriously? "What about the pictures?"

"I don't care about them, take me out and you can have them. I promise. I didn't make any copies or anything. I'll give you the memory card and you can do anything you want with it." She sounded almost shy, like she expected him to yell at her or walk away or call the cops or Superman or somebody. She didn't seem like the threat she was.

"Did you try to catch me changing? Did you know who I am...?"

"No, I was just there and you started changing your clothes. I swear that I didn't know anything before that. I didn't even know that you—that Robin—was at the school. I was just standing in the woods and there you were."

"Why were you in the woods?"

She gave a half shrug. "I like to be by myself and I saw some flowers, wildflowers so I went to look at them."

So she didn't have any friends to hang with while the fire was being dealt with and so she'd wandered off on her own. "How do I know that you didn't load the pictures to your hard drive or make copies somewhere. E-mail them to someone?"

"You don't know, but I'm telling you that I didn't. I guess you'll just have to believe me." She paused. "I wouldn't lie to you."

For one of the few times in his life, Dick was speechless. This was the last thing he expected and he was at a loss as to what to do. Yes, sure, for now he'd have to trust her since he didn't have any real choice. If she'd made copies or something, there wasn't much he could do about it and if she was telling the truth he actually felt sort of sorry for her—pissed as he was. "If I agreed to this, to pretending to date you, you'd let it be known that your my girlfriend or whatever?"

She nodded.

"How long is this charade supposed to go on?"

She looked like that comment stung. "Until you graduate."

"You're kidding; that's not for another (he did a quick mental count) nine months."

"But you don't have a girlfriend, I checked—I wouldn't make you break up with someone if you were in love or something, I asked and no one has ever seen you—Dick—with a girlfriend and there aren't any reports that Robin has one, either. That's my deal for me to destroy those pictures, you have to pretend to...like me."

"Or you out me. What about my friends and the other people I work with?"

"You mean like Batman? I won't say anything to anyone, won't show the pictures and no one will ever know anything if you go along with this. I promise."

Dick watched her for a long few minutes, trying to figure out what her angle was. Did she really want to show up her mother's supposed low opinion of her or was there some other agenda going on? And what if she got mad or he decided not to play the game after a month or two? "What kind of guarantee can you give me that you're not handing me some kind of a line?"

"What do you mean?" She looked over at him, her voice still quiet and calm, as though this was a done deal and he was belaboring unimportant details. Or that he was going to walk out any second and laugh at how dumb she was.

"Why should I trust you?"

"I guess because you don't have a choice."

"Of course I do, I also have friends who would be upset if they knew what you're trying to do here. You wouldn't stand a chance with them and I suspect that you know that."

She nodded. "I do know but I don't think you'd really have me killed or hypnotized or something like that. You seem too nice for that." She actually gave him a shy smile. This was incredible.

He was too _nice_? That was another last thing he expected from her and it was a strange feeling, he was flatfooted around her and he didn't like the feeling. But she was right, too. _He_ wouldn't do that much to scare her or whatever, but Batman or the JLA wouldn't have any compunctions about it. Hell, even the Titans would clean her clock if they knew about this.

He was almost starting to feel sorry for her and mentally smacked himself for it. She had him, as she rightly put it, by the short hairs and all she could think to do with it was to make him pretend to be her boyfriend so her mother wouldn't think she was a wall flower or a loser. No demand for money or to join the Titans. No attempt to write her memoirs or sell the pictures to any of the usual outlets—which would pay a fortune. There was an unwritten bounty out for stuff like this and she could retire on what she could rake in if she wanted to.

Could he trust her?

Against all evidence and common sense, yes, he thought that he could. Beyond that, he was curious about her. Of course he'd known lots of people like her, people who were their own enemies, people who were too frightened to stand up for themselves, ones who always seemed to think others had it better or were luckier than they were. The ones who always though 'if just...'. If the cute guy (or girl) just liked them, if they could just get that promotion, if they just had more money, if they were just younger or better looking or taller.

Of course, if he was wrong it would mean that he'd have top abandon his real name, take on another civilian identity and probably move to another city and so would Bruce and anyone who was known to be associated with them; Alfred especially. People at Wayne Enterprises and God knew who else would be affected.

But...

"If anything comes out, if there are any leaks, do you have any idea what a shit storm it will be?"

"There won't be." She looked hopeful, like a kid on Christmas morning or something and he kicked himself for being such a sap. Maybe she was sensing that she had a chance with him.

"I'll try it, but if you double cross me, I'll make sure that..."

"I know and I won't. I promised, didn't I?"

He looked at her again, hoping against hope that he wasn't making the worse mistake he'd ever made but with a gut feeling that she was on the level. And he could always level blackmail charges against her if it came to it.

And knew that Bruce was going to kill him.

TBC

13


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

"I can't believe you agreed to this, I can't. After everything you've been through, everything I've taught you and the realities of our lives—as well as the lives and well-being of people you know...I can't believe this!"

"C'mon, Bruce, calm down for a minute, will you? Okay, maybe you're right but I really think she's telling me the truth."

"And if she had a bridge to sell you would you make an offer?"

"Knock it off." Dick was angry and defensive, knowing that he may well have made a major mistake which was about to come back and bite him in the ass, except that... "Okay, why don't you go pay her a visit and make sure she knows what's at stake here; would that work for you?"

Bruce gave him the Batglare to end all Batglares. "Wait here, I'll be back."

Oh, great, he was going to go scare the crap out of Brittney, make sure she never so much as squeaked if she saw a mouse. On the other hand—on the other hand, four fingers and a thumb, but never mind that...on the other hand that might not be a bad idea. It couldn't hurt to reenforce the situation to the girl. And it wasn't like Dick was in a position to lodge a complaint.

He couldn't help smiling, though.

* * *

Brittney was trying to get to sleep without success. Robin—_Robin!, _had agreed to take her out and pretend to be her boyfriend. Okay, it was really Dick Grayson who'd be taking her out but even without the costume he was still so far above anyone she ever even dreamed about that it was incredible. And, all right, he was just doing it because she was sort of blackmailing him, but still, the kids at school would see them together and her mother would—maybe, stop her digs about how she couldn't catch a boyfriend if she used a hook, line and sinker.

All right, she'd never actually said that, but she was always making comments about how she should get some different clothes, get her hair cut, make more of an effort to join things at school become active in volunteering, join clubs. And, for god's sake, wear come make up.

Christ. Her mother just didn't get it. No one at school wanted to hang out with her, no one wanted to be her friend and everyone thought she was weird.

But Dick was different. He was nice. He never made snarky comments to her or anyone else so far as she could tell. And he'd agreed to take her out until the end of school.

"It was just because of the pictures, I know that. He's probably really mad about the whole thing but he seemed...nice, anyway. Maybe he'll really start to like me, just a little. Maybe."

She didn't even care that he was rich, that didn't matter. And he was so handsome. And his eyes were so blue. He was beautiful, she was a mud fence next to him but that was okay; she was a mouse next to everyone.

"He doesn't care what I look like. He feels sorry for me, that's why he's doing this. It's okay, he's doing it and I don't care why."

That wasn't true, of course, she wanted him to really like her and maybe, if they really went out for a while and he got to know her, maybe he'd start to like her for real, just a little.

In school she'd sit next to him at lunch and everyone would see. They wouldn't understand, but they'd see and that would be the start.

"If those pictures ever see daylight, I'll be extremely upset. Do you understand?"

Brittney jerked to a sitting position and dimly saw the outline of Batman standing by her closet in the dark room.

"Do you?"

She nodded, terrified. "No one will ever see them, I promised him. You can ask him. I swear."

He was gone.

God.

She never did sleep that night.

And, besides, he didn't know that...well, he didn't know.

* * *

Monday's lunch went even better than Brittney had hoped. She was just leaving math class when, "Join me?"

It was Dick, of course, smiling like he was happy to see her as they walked down the stairs and stood on line for their food. He chatted with some of his friends, introduced her to them and made sure that there was an extra chair at the senior table for her. A couple of the girls gave her looks but, "Just ignore them. They're harmless."

She smiled at him gratefully and picked at her grilled cheese. "You're being really nice about this, thank you."

He took a beat, then, "It's okay. Would you like a ride home today?"

"That would be great, thank you—are you sure you don't mind?"

"No problem. I'll see you out in the parking lot."

She went to History class on a cloud of romantic daydreams, knowing they were based on nothing other than her scheming, but ignoring the facts for the moment. Later, in gym class she heard a couple of senior girls in the next row of lockers were talking about her.

"Well, I don't know, maybe Dick's slumming or something."

"C'mon, Lissa, be nice, she seemed all right, she's just shy."

"Shy, my ass. She's trying to hook the Wayneboy and it looks like she's on the way. Did you see that he even held the door for her?"

"So, he has good manners."

"He could do better."

"God, Liss—don't be such a bitch. She seemed fine."

"I give it two weeks, until he nails her, then he'll move on to someone else."

"Dick's never been a player; I think he might really like her."

"God, you're such a simp."

Brittney went for stiff upper lip, staring Lissa down while they were doing their jumping jacks and then slammed a volleyball spike straight at her face. Okay, she might be shy, but eat that, bitch.

* * *

Bruce was pacing, something he did so rarely that Alfred became concerned.

"Might I inquire what may be troubling you, Sir?"

He stopped, pivoted on the balls of his feet and faced the old man. "You've heard that some girl at the Academy has pictures of Dick changing back from Robin? She's blackmailing him to force him to date her and if he refuses..."

"If he refuses, she'll release the unfortunate photographs to the various outlets? Yes, I spoke with Master Dick a while ago and he seemed remarkably unconcerned about the implications."

"You seem pretty calm about this, do you know something I don't?"

Alfred remained as controlled as ever. "That would be exceedingly unlikely, now, wouldn't it? But I may have more confidence in the young master's judgment regarding the situation. He says he believes the young lady will keep the pictures to herself and I suspect he may be right."

Something was up. "Why?"

"Simply because Dick is a singularly intelligent and mature young man with an exceptional understanding of people and their motives. If he doesn't feel a serious threat, I would tend to believe him." Alfred went on with his polishing of the Thomas Wayne's antique desk. "In addition, I would think that Batman's visit to the young lady last evening would be enough to ensure anyone's silence."

Bruce nodded, "Yes, I'm sure it helped."

"And there you have it. Now, dinner will be ready in an hour, if you wish to use the gym, I suggest that you have at it."

* * *

Dick found Brittney waiting by his car after school, she seemed shy but also seemed happy at the glances they were getting from the other students. "Was today everything you hoped for and more?" He tried not to sound sarcastic and even added a small smile as he clicked the car doors unlocked.

She nodded, returning the small smile and seeming not to take any offense. "I know I kind of forced you into this but thank you."

"It's okay."

"No, really, thank you, I never—you know, I never had anyone pay attention to me in school before and today was amazing. " She laughed a little. "I mean, I know you're really mad at me and I don't blame you but it was just so neat. A couple of girls were even jealous. "

"Jealous? Because you ate lunch with me? Get serious." Like that would ever happen. Dick knew he wasn't a bottom feeder in the school food chain, but he also knew he wasn't top of the pile, either—on purpose. Bruce would kill him if he was too visible, drew too much attention to himself and made people look twice at him. The risk of being outed as Robin was too great and he'd become used to being semi-invisible in his civilian life.

It was probably because of Bruce's money, that's what made him a catch—if he was one. Hell, there wasn't anything special about Dick Grayson, he was just the kid in the third row. His grades were good but he wasn't on any teams and he didn't have many friends in the school because he couldn't afford to let anyone get too close. It was part of the price of being in the hero community.

But somehow being with Brittney at lunch today made things easier, even though it happened in a totally weird and even illegal with the way she'd snared him. The big secret was already out with her and he could relax a bit. It was sort of nice. Weird, but nice.

Pulling up to the Wilson's front door, Brittney let herself out of the car, "Would you like to come in, have a snack or something?"

Uh...

"My mom is home, I mean, if you don't mind too much."

Dick caught what she wasn't saying, she wanted her mother to see them together again. He nodded, not even minding all that much, which surprised him. He should be furious, mad, pissed off at what he was being coerced into doing but he found that he simply was feeling sorry for her instead. He didn't completely understand it, but there it was.

"Mom?"

"Kitchen."

Brittney lightly took his hand as they walked down the hall, he didn't pull away; no point in being cruel.

"Oh, Dick, you're here again. This is a nice surprise. Britty, sweetheart, tell me you didn't wear that old thing to school today?"

She visibly shrank. "It's comfortable. Dick gave me a ride home again."

"That's sweet of you to do that, honey, I know this is out of your way."

"'Not so far, it's no problem." In fact the Manor was about five miles in the other direction but the Boxter ate miles and was a kick to drive—_really_ no problem.

"Well, since you're here, would you like to stay for dinner? I was just about to put a chicken in the oven. Britt never eats enough to keep a bird alive; it will be a treat to feed someone who appreciates a meal for a change."

"Thanks, but I'm expected home soon; another time?" She smiled an 'of course' and Dick leaned over to give Brittney a kiss on the cheek. "I'll pick you up for school tomorrow, seven-thirty?" She blushed and nodded, happy for the first since they'd walked into the house.

Driving back home Dick tried to sort out what was going on here. She'd surprised him changing, though he believed that she just stumbled onto that. She had pictures and wasn't—at this point—using them for anything other than to coerce him into snowing her bitch of a mother.

He was real pissed off about the blackmail thing but he was just about equally torn between anger and feeling sorry for her. She seemed like a nice girl, unappreciated and put down by her mother (where was her father?) but a decent kid.

Strange.

TBC

19


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five**

"Britt? The Grayson boy, that was nice of him to give you a ride home, wasn't it?"

"Uh-huh."

"'Yes', please answer with words that are part of the English language."

"Yes, it was nice of him to give me a ride home."

Mrs. Wilson ignored the sarcasm, or maybe she didn't notice it. "Are you two becoming friends? I never heard you mention him before this."

"I guess so."

"He seems like a very nice young man, you don't mind if I do some checking on him, do you?"

"God—Mom, no! He's just a guy in school, he isn't a rapist or a terrorist or anything, he's just a high school senior."

"Where does he think he may go next year? Is he looking at colleges?"

"I guess he probably is, I don't know."

"Well, I'm sure that Bruce will be on top of that, or one of his people will be. I understand that Lucius Fox is the brains behind Wayne Enterprises so he's probably the one doing the leg work."

"Mom, whatever. Dick is a nice guy and he's smart and he's never been in any trouble that I know of so please leave him alone. Please."

"I think it would be a good idea to have Bruce and Dick over for dinner one of these evenings, would you like that?"

Brittney went into internal panic mode. God, no. "I think Bruce Wayne is probably pretty busy and I doubt if he wants to eat hamburgers around the kitchen table. Can you please forget about it? Dick is just a nice guy who gave me a ride home, okay?"

Janis Wilson let it go for now but she wasn't about to drop this, no matter what Britt asked. Clearly they two of them were developing something, the only question was what it could be. Why on earth would a kid like Dick Grayson, someone surrounded by Bruce Wayne's 'entertainment' be interested in her daughter? It didn't make any sense. He could pick and choose; he had looks, wealth and a guardian who was other-wised engaged and so could probably come and go at will. The idea of him with Britty was, well it was ridiculous.

Of course he might just be trolling for a some cheap thrills, boys will be boys and all of that.

But still, there might possibly be something she could work with here.

* * *

"Hey Bruce, do you know anything about Janis Wilson?"

Bruce almost turned from his paper, "Janis Wilson the corporate lawyer? Smart, tough, knows her stuff. We offered her a position with Wayne but she turned us down to work for Microsoft. I think she's heading their legal department now. Why?"

"She's Brittney's mother."

That got his attention. "Does she know?"

"About the pictures? If she does she didn't say anything to me about it. Do you know anything about her personally?" Dick picked up a pen and played with it, he wasn't enjoying this conversation, knowing it point up his getting caught changing and would remind Bruce—as if he need reminding—that they had a situation.

"Divorced, I think. The ex is a member of Brixton Country Club, plays golf and seems to drink a lot. I've seen him hit on the waitresses and I 'm pretty sure he was escorted home a few times when he couldn't drive."

"Does he work?"

"'Lives off some kind of alimony he gets from Janis, or that's what I've heard. Why, problem—aside from the original?" And if Janis Wilson was on the warpath of Dick Grayson being Robin then it was about to well and truly hit the fan.

"Not as far as I know, She's pretty nasty to Britt, puts her down, belittles her but she seems to think I'm okay; she's been pleasant enough to me, anyway."

"Keep your eye's open and don't underestimate her." Bruce gave Dick a hard look, making it clear that he wasn't letting this slide.

* * *

The next morning, seven-thirty sharp, Dick pulled up to Brittney's front door. "Ready?" He hadn't bothered to get out but he was there and Brittney was happy about that, even if he probably wished he was anywhere else. But then, "You look nice."

She smiled as she shut the car door and seemed to have more of an effort getting dressed today, either that or her mother picked out her clothes; they weren't designer but they had all the right labels to be part of the in crowd. "You look great, too." He always did, but she didn't have the nerve to say so. "Did you have Marra for English?

"Junior year, why, is he giving you trouble?"

"I'm usually pretty good in English but he wants me to take the pro side against gun control for a debate and I don't know if I can do it."

"You don't like guns?" He pulled the car carefully into traffic, heavy this hour of the morning because of the rush.

"'Hate them. Some jerk shot my dog when I was seven, 'said he thought Lucy was a deer he was stalking."

"I'm sorry. I never really had any pets but I like animals. Bruce hosted a charity thing a few weeks ago for the Humane Society and the people there were telling me how many people are being forced to give up their pets because of the economy. 'Have to make a choice of feeding their kids or their animals so the shelters are even more over crowded than usual."

They were stopped at a light. "How come you never had any pets?"

"When I was little we didn't have the room and now Bruce says he doesn't have time; he's always having to go overseas or someplace and doesn't want to shove an animal onto some caretaker." The light changed. "Oh, I didn't know if you wanted anything but I stopped for a bagel so I picked one up for you, too. Help yourself." He pointed to a small paper bag on the passenger side floor.

"...Thank you." She looked, a plain bagel toasted with butter but she didn't understand. "After everything I've forced you to do , you're being _nice? Why?_"

"Why not?"

"C'mon. Why?"

Dick's hands gripped the wheel a bit tighter and he allowed himself a moment to formulate his answer. "You have the pictures, we both know what they could mean to me and people who matter to me so it's, well, awkward is an understatement, but short of getting Superman or someone to scare the crap out of you, there isn't all that much I can do."

"What if you found out I'd sold them somewhere?"

"You'd be sued both in criminal and civil court and I'd probably win a lot of money from you; actually from your mother since you're a minor."

"But the pictures would still be out there."

"Yes, they would and then I'd basically have to establish an entirely new identity, probably move to a different city and change my whole life. You have to realize the consequences, don't you?"

She hadn't thought about much else since this whole thing started, well other than being with Dick and the changes it had already made in her own life. "Yes, I understand them." They were pulling into the school parking lot. "But we have an agreement and I'll stick to it. I promised and I will."

Dick parked in his assigned space, killed the engine and turned to look at her, his face serious. "Will you?"

"I said I would, yes. I'm not a liar."

"Just like that? Someone offers you a few million dollars, you'd turn it down? Because that's the ball park you're looking at—minimum."

"My mom's rich, I don't need money."

"...So what do you need? Me?"

Yes. But her answer was just a shrug. Dick nodded, he understood what this was about and he believed that she wouldn't sell the pictures.

He opened his door and swung his legs out. "C'mon, we'll be late. Meet me for lunch again."

* * *

Janis Wilson simply didn't understand what the Grayson boy saw in Britney. It could be the obvious, that she was a needy girl who would do anything he wanted for some attention, but surely he could find someone more at his own level to accommodate his needs, couldn't he?

Well, it wouldn't last, no reason to worry about it.

* * *

A few weeks went by and as far as Brixton Academy knew, Dick and Brittney were a couple. He drove her to school every day, they ate lunch together at the senior table and they left together in his car at the end of the day. Between classes they could often be seen walking together and clearly enjoying one another's company.

The seemed like a mismatch but then Dick had never really dated anyone more than once or twice. He was always polite to them and they parted on good terms, but he'd never had steady and God knew Brittney had never been out with anyone so far as the local wisdom went.

"But she's such a mud fence, what does he see in her?"

"What do you think?"

"He could get laid any time he wanted-Grayson? Please, drop dead gorgeous, loaded and a gentleman. He could take his pick and then pick again."

"God, Lissa, you're such a bitch. What, you still mad that he turned you down last year?"

"He did _not _turn me down, I told _him_ to forget it when he asked."

"Uh-huh, you keep telling yourself that, Liss."

"I just don't get it."

But the simple fact was that the two found that they were enjoying each other. Dick had the freedom of not having to hide his secrets and the other half of his life and Brittney had someone who was kind to her and seemed to value her, at least on some level, without constant criticisms.

They filled a gap in one another and were surprised when they realized it. They weren't in love, no, but they were becoming genuine friends, something they both had a limited supply of.

The real turning point was when they were hanging out at Brittney's house, watching a DVD and his phone rang. "I'm sorry, 'have to go."

She looked him a question.

"The Titans, something's up."

"Be careful, okay?"

"'Always am, tell your mother Bruce wanted me home, okay?"

It was easy, comfortable and they both needed that. Three months after the camera/phone incident, Dick realized that he hadn't really thought about the pictures in weeks.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six**

Dick was eating his breakfast in the kitchen. It was Saturday morning and he hated eating alone in the dining room, even if it was the small one; he hated the reinforcement of Alfred in the role of hired help. It grated on everything in him and so, early Saturday morning he was sitting, eating eggs and ham at the kitchen table.

"May I inquire what plans you have for the day?" Alf sat down across from him, cup of Earl Grey beside him.

"Bruce wants me to go over to the office to meet the new VP and I guess we're supposed to have lunch with her then I was going over to Brittney's, catch a movie and dinner."

Alfred sipped his tea for a moment, skimming the Gotham Times headlines. "I take it that your arrangement with the young lady hasn't become onerous to you?"

"Brittney's okay."

"Despite the original reason for your association?"

"She's not that bad."

From a teenager, that was effusive, indeed. "I think perhaps I should warn you that Master Bruce is planning on using today's trip into Wayne Enterprises to question you about your future plans regarding a university."

Dick downed his milk. "I figured as much. I've applied to Occidental, Carlton, Oberlin and Hudson and should hear in a couple of months."

Alfred hid his surprise. "I thought that Robin was offered scholarships to several of the larger universities, Ohio, Stanford, Michigan and several others as memory serves. I take it you've decided against them?"

"They don't want Dick Grayson, they just want Robin for some easy PR and some gymnastics medals. I'd rather go somewhere I can be myself."

"Understandable, of course, but might you be able to blend in more in a larger environment?" Meaning, couldn't Robin be less likely to be outed if he was one of thirty thousand students instead of four thousand?

"It'll be fine." Loose translation, drop it.

"I shan't expect you for dinner, then."

* * *

"I understand that you're looking at some smaller liberal arts schools. Do you think that's the best for you?"

"I don't have any idea, to be honest. I just know what I don't want; a major in criminal science, a place on the gymnastics team, living in some huge cinder block dorm. I want something more personal, a place where Robin can make a difference."

"You're talking about a place where Robin will stick out like a sore thumb."

Dick looked out of the car window, the city changing back to suburbs as Alfred drove them home from the meet and greet with the new VP in charge of development. She was just what he expected her to be; Ivy League, pretty, late twenties, type-A, ambitious and obviously very smart. She also seemed like she was torn between naturally feeling competitive with Dick, the assumed heir apparent, and wanting to impress him which would likely include an attempted seduction in short order. She also made a subtle play for Bruce which would come back to bite her in the ass if she kept it up.

Same old, same old.

"If I don't like it or it doesn't work out I can always transfer."

"You'd be wasting time if you end up transferring, and there's no guarantee that you could transfer credits. You could be spinning your wheels."

"Or not."

They rode a mile in silence. "No new threats from Brittney?"

"No, and I don;t think there will be. I've told you I don't think she's going to do anything."

"Yes you've said that."

Dick looked at Bruce sitting there with his jaw clenched again. "And you don't believe her—or my opinion?"

You know I trust you, Dick. 'You're not the wild card here."

The car was just pulling up to the Manor's front door, Dick letting himself out almost before it stopped. "Where are you going?"

"I have to change and then I told Brittney that I'd go over there." And he was inside, taking the main staircase two steps at a time, two minutes later he was coming back down, his city clothes changed for jeans and a cashmere sweater, Christmas bounty. A minute after that they heard the Porsche leaving the garage.

"I'm not happy about this 'arrangement' he has with that girl, Alfred."

"I'm aware of that but I suspect that you may be missing the silver lining of this particular cloud, Master Bruce. Now, if you'll excuse me. I have to begin marinating the game hen for your dinner this evening."

"Silver lining?"

"I seems to genuinely believe that the young lady is trustworthy and gives every appearance of enjoying her company. His grades remain good and he's focused on things you deem important. I fail to see a problem and Miss Wilson seems, from what I've witnessed, to be honest in her insistence that the pictures are safely hidden somewhere."

"Or so she wants us to think."

"...If that's you're feelings, I suggest that you may wish to pay her another visit to make sure she knows you haven't completely relaxed your vigilance."

* * *

Brittney's sister opened the door when Dick rang the bell. "Britt asked me to tell you that she's running late but should be back in about twenty minutes so you should come in." She stood aside to let him pass into the main hallway. "'Want something to drink?"

"I'm good, thanks." He waited. "I'm Dick Grayson, nice to meet you."

"Sorry, I'm Christine, Chris. Hi. You can wait in the family room with me if you want." Without further pleasantries she led him into the den, the TV playing an ancient copy of Gone With the Wind. Gettysburg's casualty lists were just coming into Atlanta and Scarlett was having a really bad day. "Popcorn?"

"No, thanks."

"So, I hear that you and Britt are pretty solid. Have you two talked about what's going to happen when you graduate? You're going to college, right? How's she going to handle that?"

"I'm sure that she'll be fine, thanks." Change the subject. "'She said that you go to Yale?"

"Um-hmm. Psychology with a minor in Business. 'You know where you're going yet?"

"Not yet, I have to see where I get in."

She moved a little closer on the couch."I'm sure you'll get in, Britty says your grades are good and you must have connections everywhere, I mean, who's going to turn down the Wayne money, right?" She looked aghast. "I didn't mean to say that, I just meant that no school would want to risk losing...oh, crap—you know what I meant."

He watched her blush and squirm then nodded. "I do know what you meant. And I still have to wait to find out where I've been accepted." He took a few pieces of the popcorn. "And 'Wayne' doesn't appear on any of the applications, my name is Grayson so it shouldn't be a factor."

"I really am sorry, I didn't mean anything by that—honest." She seemed to be genuinely contrite.

"No problem, forget it."

They watched the film for a few minutes, or pretended to, anyway. Then, "If I ask you something, will you answer?"

"'Depends what it is." What _was _it with this family?

"Mom thinks that Britt has something on you, some pictures you don't want to get out, that might embarrass Mr. Wayne or something; nudes or you with some girl. Is that true?"

"Why don't you just ask her?"

"Because she'd probably lie and I think it might be true. Is it?"

Dick hesitated, not that he cared one ay or another what Chris' agenda was, but he really didn't want to get into anything with her. Not even a little. "Why do both of you think it's such a stretch that I like your sister?"

She smiled a 'gotcha' smile. "Answering a question with a question, so it's true, then. What, she caught you with your pants down or smoking some dope or something? You know she's a total mouse, she won't do anything; you don't have to waste your time with her." She gave him a serious once-over. "And you could do better." Her hand strayed to rest on his inner thigh near his knee and started to move upwards.

He gently but firmly removed it and stood up. "I do just fine, thanks. If yo don't mind, I'll wait in the kitchen."

He was getting tired of this and could catch up with Britt later.

Then it got serious.

Brittney arrived just as he was about to give up and leave but was stopped by the look on her face.

"What?"

Close to tears, "I can't believe this, I can't. I swear, I had no idea that he'd do something like that. I didn't—if I known, if I'd thought I never would have had it with me, I wouldn't have left it in the car and...Ohmigod." The ears spilled.

"What?"

"Oh God, I'm so sorry. I'm just so sorry."

"Brittney, what happened?"

Her face was stricken, frightened. "I was out having lunch with my dad—I almost never see him since he left and he called me. He just said he wanted to see me and I didn't know, I swear I didn't suspect anything. I really didn't think he'd do anything. I, I..."

"What, c'mon, what happened?"

"My father has my camera."

"But you took out the memory card months ago, didn't you?"

"Um, it had like three hundred pictures still on it so I...Ohmigod, I'm so sorry. I just wanted to take his picture I hardly ever see him."

"Did he have any reason to think there was anything on it, that he could make money from it?"

"No, no, I swear. I think he just wants to pawn the camera. He's really broke and he's always asking mom for money and he drinks a lot so he lost his job—I think he just wants to, you know, get money for it."

Oh, shit...

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Seven**

**Conclusion**

"I can't believe this! How, in the name of God, could you let something like this happen?"

"It just happened, okay? I'm dealing with it. I'll take care of it."

"I have the JLA keeping track of the media to see if anything shows up there and I've asked Clark to see if there's anything he can do. _You_ talk to Brittney and see if she's heard anything or if she can somehow just get the memory card back." Bruce was as enraged as Dick—or Alfred, for that matter—had even seen him. He was riding that fine line between white fury when he was frighteningly calm and red-faced with rage. He was keeping himself under control, but it was a close thing. "Now would be good."

Dick drove over to the Wilson's house, Christine opening the door when he walked up. "You and Britt have a fight, I take it? She's up in her room crying, you might want to wait till she stops and comes down herself."

"I'll go up, if that;'s all right with you."

"'Your funeral."

Ignoring Christine, Dick knocked on Britt's door, letting himself in. She was sitting on the bed, crying, a couple of used Kleenex's close by and a framed picture of the two of them on her bed stand. He couldn't remember it being taken, but it was a candid in what looked like her back yard.

"I'm so sorry. I am, I'm really sorry."

Of course she was, but this was...a mess. "Batman's never been this angry, not since I've known him, he's insisting on bringing in help to contain this immediately."

She looked at him, damply. "Who?"

"He was talking about the JLA."

"And they'll blame you, won't they? For letting me, you know—they'll say it's your fault."

He didn't have to say anything, of course they would. It was his fault and they'd be right to ream him out, clip his wings, refuse to work with him—whatever. This was on his shoulders, period. "Would talking to your father help? Would he listen, be reasonable?"

"He needs money."

Dick had money but the thing about blackmailers was that it never ended. You gave them a million dollars and next year they want two million. There was no winning.

"Would scaring him work?"

She just shrugged, giving up, depressed and knowing that Dick—Robin—would blame her for everything, and be right about it, too. This _was _all her fault. If anything happened to his career, if the Justice League got involved and Batman had to shoulder some of the blame because Robin was his sidekick...it was all her fault. All of it.

"I'm going over there, to his place, see what I can do." Dick was determined and he wasn't going to let this go. He couldn't. He had to resolve this, one way or another.

"I'll come with you." He started to protest but she went on. "I know my way around his apartment, I know his car and if there's a problem I might be able to talk us out of it somehow. Besides, he's supposed to be at work now, I can help you." He started to protest. "Please?... _Please?_"

"C'mon." He didn't bother to change and slid behind the wheel wearing his civilian jeans and a button-down shirt; Alfred's idea of acceptable informal-wear.

They drove straight over to the garden apartment a couple of miles over the Brixton border, located directly behind a strip mall. Brittney went straight to the building marked 'H' on the side and rang the bell for the upstairs apartment in the middle section. The place smelled of old garbage, used cat litter and stale beer. The walls needed painting, the landscaping, such as it was, largely failed to survive the last summer's drought and the balconies held cheap outdoor furniture from Wal-mart and towels thrown over the railings. It was the kind of place you either tried to move out of fast or knew you probably never would.

Part of Dick felt sorry for Brittney, embarrassed for her but he got over it quickly, like several months ago.

She pressed the bell for 'H-5' and waited. Nothing. She pressed the intercom button which Dick would reasonably sure wouldn't work. Nothing. "Follow me."

They went up the stairs, the overhead light out, Britt singled out a key from her keyring and, knocking before she tried it, finally opened the door.

"Daddy?"

Nothing.

"Daddy? It's me, are you here? I have a friend with me."

The place smelled rancid, old booze, old food, dirty clothes. The shades were drawn but they could see the mess in the dim light.

Alcoholic was an understatement. The kitchen counter was covered in bottles, mostly whiskey and mostly empty. Empty bottles and take out food containers; evidently Daddy liked Chinese food, either that or it was close and cheap.

A tour of the place, all two rooms, proved they were alone. "Start looking."

Dick started in the bedroom then moved through the apartment checking all the obvious hiding places, under the bed, in the closet, stuffed in clothes, cub-boards, in the fridge, the freezer, in the old black and white TV. They went through every drawer, every overflowing garbage can, every pile of dirty laundry. They looked through every piece of furniture, under every cushion, under every chair, end table, the couch. In the medicine chest, behind the toilet, in the hamper, they looked everywhere something the size of a large deck of cards could be. Finding just the memory card, the size of a postage stamp, would take a miracle.

"'Anything?"

Brittney shook her head. "No, nothing."

"Could it be in his car or in his locker at work or something like that?"

"He doesn't have a car and I'm pretty sure that he's still out of work after the last time he was fired."

Dick was close to the end of his rope with this. Anything could have happened; the camera could already be in the hands of any media agency on the planet. It could be in a pawn shop, it could be at the bottom of the river, it could be in his hip pocket, it could be sitting on a table in McDonald's. It could be—anywhere.

Of course, he knew it was...no, not yet; not going there until he was ready.

They'd found nothing. Well, nothing anyone would want.

Maybe it was time to call in Clark, see if he could do anything.

Maybe he'd get lucky.

Back in the car, Dick closed his door, Brittney sitting beside him, and stared out the windshield. This was it, he'd taken a chance, trusted someone and it was about to blow up not just in his face but could take down Batman. Bruce Wayne, famous billionaire philandering idiot would be revealed as a facade. The cover they'd used for so long was gone. They would have to relocate if they wanted to have any chance of normal lives outside the spandex.

Dick would be forced to change schools, his plans for college were out the window.

They'd need new identities, a new home, Bruce would have to give up the Manor, his family's home going back however long it had been or beef up the security to beyond the ridiculous.

And Alfred, Alfred would be besieged; he'd have to change as well, maybe go back to England, maybe stay with Bruce (God, he had to stay with Bruce, he had to.).

Dick would change his name, get himself a new identity. Yes, of course they had a plan in place in case they ever needed to disappear, hey had back up plans for everything; Bruce was anal that way. Meanwhile, Dick could fake records, apply to other colleges or, screw it, he could go back to the circus with a new name. Sure people might recognize him, circus people might but a lot of carnies had things they didn't want known and it was a closed world where privacy was respected and not too closely questioned. He'd be eighteen soon, he'd be fine, He could make his own money, that wouldn't be a problem.

Maybe he could even go through with that idea he had about retiring Robin and inventing a new identity for himself, a more mature one with a new costume. There was always that idea he had about joining a regular police force, a corrupt one where he could work from the inside to clean things up. Okay, he'd probably have to go through an academy and start out like any other rookie, at least on the surface, but he'd always thought that would work, could make a difference.

He could look at this as an opportunity, Sure he could, this was like a silver lining that he could use to make lemonade and all that.

Jesus.

This was exactly the nightmare Bruce thought would be the outcome.

He'd said and said again that Dick shouldn't trust Brittney, that he should get the camera, get the memory card any way he could, do what he had to and forget about being nice, forget about the whole pretending to be her boyfriend garbage.

He'd been right, right from the start and Dick knew it but he'd been stubborn, insisting that he knew what he was doing, that he could handle this, that everything would turn out fine.

The voice in his head was so loud that he didn't notice that, in fact, they'd been sitting in complete silence for ten long minutes.

"I—I have to tell you..."

"What?" His voice as quiet, defeated.

"I—it's, I mean..." She trailed off, stopped by his profiled expression.

He didn't even bother looking over at her, what was the point? So she could apologize, say how sorry she was? It didn't matter, it was his own fault for being so easy on her, for not taking the camera and stomping it under his heel when he could.

Suddenly, "Dick, there he is." She was pointing to an nondescript man walking in their direction across the parking lot. He was carrying a small bag of what looked like groceries, his collar turned up and without a jacket against the cool weather. Not noticing the two teens in the car, he went straight to his apartment, disappearing inside.

"Come on." He was all business, all Robin, every instinct alert and ready for anything.

They rang the bell. "Daddy? It's me, Brittney."

He opened the door with a smile on his unshaven face. "Sweetheart! I didn't expect you today—come in, come in. Who's this, your boyfriend? You come in, too." He wrapped his arms around her, "I missed you something fierce, you have no idea."

They went in, pretending to ignore the mess and the new bottles on the kitchen counter. "So, you were in the area, 'decided to drop in?"

Dick was quietly analyzing the man, average height, brownish hair, slightly too long, gray eyes, old, ill-fitting jeans and a button down shirt that probably dated back to when he had a job. He looked like what he was, used up, defeated and down on his luck. He looked desperate but he didn't look like he'd know where to fence or sell something like the pictures he was supposed to have. Maybe he had friends, maybe he could ask around, maybe he had old contacts from his former life but as he stood now? No.

"We were just wondering if you might have picked up Brittney's phone the other day. It has some pictures on it she took, we'd hate to lose and we can't seem to find it anywhere."

"Phone?" He stopped to think, his mind probably a bit foggy, his hand scratching his neck. He emptied his pockets on the counter, it wasn't there. "Uh, no, no phone. 'Sorry, sweetheart. Pictures of you and your new boyfriend here? You kids meet in school, over at Brix?"

"Dick's just a friend, Daddy but I'd really hate to lose it. Are you sure you didn't pick it up by mistake or when I left it or something?"

He thought again, it seemed to take all of his concentration. "No, sorry, not here." The phone rang behind him, "Hello?...I know that...You'll get it as soon as I have it, you know I'm good for it, Jimmy...Next week, I promise and you know my word's good. I'll bring it over to you myself, Tuesday morning—set the clock by me."

Dick and Brittney exchanged a look; they'd already searched the apartment, he didn't have it on him, they weren't getting anywhere here. "Daddy, we have to get going but I'll call you in a couple of days, we'll go out for Chinese food, okay? That's your favorite, my treat, I insist. Monday night, I'll pick you up." She kissed his cheek goodbye, his expression as he looked at Dick, tragic.

Back out in the car Dick lapsed back into his introspective mood. On the way back to Brixton he didn't speak, and Brittney watched him as he drove. She knew he was turning things over, mulling, thinking, putting things together.

Instead of taking her home, Dick drove to Wayne Manor, pulling around back and helping Brittney out of the low car. 'Walk with me." Not touching, they headed down the wooded path to the small, private lake, stopping wen they got to the dock and sitting on the cushioned bench. She was intimidated by his demeanor, silent, serious and focused on her. She wasn't frightened but she knew this was the end of the line.

"There are no pictures, are there?"

Busted.

"No." She looked at the water. "I thought there were, I had the camera, I saw you change, I focused on you, had you in the viewfinder. There should have been pictures."

"No power or don't you know how to use a camera phone?"

"I forgot to charge it, it was dead." Her eyes were still on the lake. "How long have you known?"

"Since the second week. I figured that if you had some shots of me you'd have at least printed some out even if you just kept them for yourself. Barring that, you would have downloaded them somewhere—to your computer, to a disk, something. I checked you home, friends, school, everywhere I could think of and there isn't anything."

She didn't even try to deny it, he was, after all, Robin. "Why did you play along, then?"

"Curiosity. I wanted to see how long you were going to keep this playing."

"But—you were so upset..."

"I'm a good actor."

Unbelievably, she seemed to be getting a little angry. "You tricked me!"

He turned his head to look at her. "_Excuse_ me?"

"Why didn't you just tell me that you knew there weren't any pictures, why did you string me along all this time—why, was I the cheap entertainment or something?"

"I knew you weren't a threat and..." He paused, not sure if he wanted to tell her the truth.

"And what? You and the rest of the Titans or the Justice League or Batman or some other big-shot hero friend of yours could laugh at me and what a loser I am?"

He almost smiled, which seemed to push her over into humiliated fury. "You were laughing at me—I thought that you were a nice guy but you're like all then other boys in school—a jerk. You strung me along, pretended you really liked me and it was just so you could keep this big joke going. Batman must have loved it, he's supposed to be the big player and you had me going for months, pretending you really liked me, even if was just a little bit but—you're just another bastard like all the boys around here."

"Brittney, stop."

"No, I, you—you could have put a stop to this back in September, you could have but you didn't, you kept coming over and being nice and going to movies with me, kept being nice to my mother and—I was wrong, I know I was but—you prick!"

"Brittney. Stop." It was the bat voice. She stopped. "Okay, when I realized that there weren't any pictures I was pretty angry and I wanted to get back at you. I wanted to make sure that you, you know, I wanted to get even so I kept seeing you to find out what I could do to make..."

"To make sure I paid for lying to you? Congratulations—you met my screwed up father, saw how messed up my mother is and how much she hates me and you made sure that she'll laugh her ass off when she finds out that you dumped me—and don't think she won't think that's the funniest thing to happen all year. 'Happy?"

He leaned back against the cushions, his arms resting lightly across the back of the chair. "I do like you, Britt. I wouldn't have wasted my time with this if I didn't. If I just wanted was to embarrass you all I had to do was call any one of a dozen reporters who owe me favors and they would have written articles that would have ruined you."

She wiped a tear away, trying to avoid him seeing. "So, why didn't you?"

"I just told you, I like you and I don't believe in being cruel just for the sake of being cruel."

"Sure."

"Have I ever been mean to you, or have you ever seen me be intentionally cruel to anyone?"

No, she hadn't.

"I liked being able to be myself with someone I don't work with. Do you have any idea how rare that is for me? I have friends, but they're all 'in the business'. I like being able to just be myself—I can't very often. When I'm Robin I'm me but I'm also this character and when I'm Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne's ward it's another character; does that make any sense?"

"Well, sure but why didn't you just tell me that you knew there weren't any pictures? I know who you are, we could have still been friends."

"I guess I needed to make sure I could trust you and I let it ride—Bruce was on my case about finding the pictures, the JLA was freaked, everyone though I'd really been careless—well, okay, I was—and they thought I'd really messed up. I needed to be sure and then I was enjoying not having to hide what I think. Then, after a while, I was afraid to say anything."

"Because without the blackmail there was no reason for us to be together."

"Something like that." He moved his arms and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "We both know we aren't passionately in love or any of that, but we were working as friends, right?"

"Without any games?"

"Without games."

"But I still know who you are, and Bruce, too."

"Yeah, you do. Is this a problem?"

"No." Just the single word.

He appraised her answer. "Good." Standing up, he started off the dock. "C'mon."

They were almost back to the house when she stopped. "What would happen if it became a problem? What would you do?"

He smiled but he looked more like Bruce; it didn't reach his eyes. "That would be a mistake. I'd do what I'd have to."

She knew him well enough to never put it to the test.

9/16/09

39


End file.
